Before I Became Me
by Katie1995
Summary: A story about Esme's Human life before becoming a Vampire. Starting from her falling from that tree and ending from jumping off that cliff, read as Esme endures and battles through the demons of this life. A prequel to "I Won't Lose You Again." Please R&R
1. The Day My Life Changed Forever

**(A/N – I do not own the characters in or **_**Twilight **_**in any way, all rights are reserved to Stephanie Meyers.)**

**The Day My Life Changed Forever**

**Esme's P.O.V.**

I had exactly two hours of free time before I had to get back to my chores. My mother, being the strong-hearted woman she is, was not impressed with what I had intended to do for my two hours of freedom.

"_Esme, you're sixteen now. I don't see any of our neighbours' children, or your friends climbing trees and getting so dirty that you're coated in a thick layer of dust."_

"_Please mother," I begged, again. "Just this once, and I'll swear to never do it again."_

_Wiping her hands down her apron, she sighed but smiled slightly, shaking her head._

"_Your father always wanted a boy," she said out of the blue, "but I guess he came close enough. With a girl he expected a daddy's girl, which you are understandably, but not once do I think he expected this. "You act more boisterous," he tells me, "then any of his brothers did.""_

"_Is that a yes then?" I asked, eagerly, my hands on her shoulders._

_My mother nodded, picking up the tea towel and waving me out the back door with it. "Go on then, Esme," she agreed. "But you have two hours, no longer."_

"_Thank you, Mother!"_

I smiled, as I ran through the crop fields to the tree that had become mine from a young age. A book – Pride and Prejudice, was clutched tightly in my right hand, partly because I didn't want to lose it among the wheat crops, and partly because I had read it so many times before that it was falling apart.

Grabbing the first branch, excitement took over and I started the climb, tucking my book neatly into the small bag chucked over my shoulder. I climbed and climbed, looking down every now and then to see the height I had covered, before stopping and sitting down on the branch that had been my friend for so many years. From this branch I could see for miles and miles in every direction. I usually came here during the sunrises and sunsets, watching as the sun reflected beautiful shades of gold across the multiple wheat fields, causing a sea of Gold to envelope underneath me.

Smiling contently, I leant back against the tree trunk and took my book from my bag, opening it up to the page I had stopped on last night before I fell asleep. It was the page just before Mr. Darcy proposed to Elizabeth. No matter how hard I tried to control my excitement at this point, it came to no avail every time.

Today was no different, however, the results of myself being unable to contain my excitement, resulted in something far less ladylike.

As I read the words, I squealed like a fan girl, clapping happily, before losing my balance completely. Yes. I lost my balance. I tried to catch myself with the branch above where I was sitting, but my fingers brushed it lightly, unable to hold me up. Everything seemed to go in slow motion as I fell from my perch and landed with a concerning crack on the hardened mud below. The pain didn't register straight away; my brain was still far too busy deciphering why I was on the floor.

However, when the pain did hit, the pain made sure to make its presence known. My leg throbbed tirelessly and I bit my lip to stop myself from crying out, and the tears rolling down my cheeks. I knew father would walk past this tree sometime soon because this was the way he made himself home from working at the farm.

"Come on, Father," I gasped, holding my leg as the pain grew worse.

I watched, my leg still searing with sharp impulses, as the sun began to fall back down, the sky casting gorgeous reds and purples across the cloud splattered sky. The moon came up from behind me, nearly full, but still not quite complete.

"Esme?" My lip was now bleeding due to the pain. I hadn't heard the footsteps from behind me until my Father's voice breathed my name.

"Father?"

Arms hooked around me and I was lifted against his chest, my hands still clutching at my leg.

"What happened, Es?"

The book that I had previously clutched in my fingers was now lying on the floor. My father took one look at the pages, now dust stained, and sighed.

"I was reading," I started, sucking in a sharp breath when another pain shot through me.

"Up that tree?" He asked; his eyes were stern.

I didn't need to answer that question. My father tried to walk at an even pace back to the house to keep my leg from further damage. I admired how gentle he was trying to be, but it didn't stop the throbbing in my leg.

"Matthew?"

My Mother's voice rang out from the kitchen, the back door swiftly opening as she came running towards us. Panic was evident in her eyes as she saw me, tears rolling down my cheek, hanging comfortably in my Father's arms.

"My dear, God, Esme. What an earth did you do this time?" I smiled at her words, choosing my words carefully.

"I was reading... in my... usual spot."

Rolling her eyes, Mother shook her head in defeat.

"I knew this would end badly."

"I'm taking her to the hospital," Father replied, quickly.

"No," Mother quipped, "It's too far inland. We can, however, receive a house call."

Nodding, Father led us through the door and into the living room, where the fire was blazing proudly before the armchairs and sofa.

Laying me down, Mother went to the phone, waiting desperately before someone picked up.

"Hospital please," Mother replied, her call now sounding like an odd one sided conservation.

Losing concentration, the pain soon distracted me for the worse.

"It hurts so much," I moaned, my words slurring.

My Father took my hand in his and squeezed it, kissing my now sweaty forehead.

"Definitely more boisterous than my brothers."

I smiled, but found it hard to stay conscious any longer. Darkness consumed me and he pain was just a distant feeling in the black abyss.

**~XoX~**

When I finally came round, the first thing I noticed was a man – a stranger – stood at the foot of the sofa. His hair was a blur of yellow, and his hand cut off from view because of the sofa's arm rest.

"Miss. Platt?" He asked, his voice calming but full of authority.

"Yes," I answered, albeit shyly, causing a small smile to pull the edges of his lips up. "But please," I continued, "call me, Esme."

"Esme, then," he agreed, "Would you like to tell me what happened?"

I tried to move, but he put a cold hand on my shoulder so quickly that I wondered how he'd got from his original place to being knelt before me.

Familiar pain shot down my right leg again, and I grimaced, my hands shooting to the unusable limb.

"You're leg," he whispered.

I smiled sheepishly as I nodded. And I tried to look away from the doctor's face, but I couldn't. His eyes, those simple organs used only to detect light to allow us to see, had captivated me entirely. Why? I knew exactly why. His eyes, so unlike what I expected, were... Golden. Along with hid neatly combed back hair and eye colour, this doctor represented more of a Greek God then a medical expert.

"You're eyes," I whispered, my throat dry that it didn't exactly sound coherent.

I didn't think the doctor had heard, yet a slight frown caused crease lines on his forehead to appear. Suddenly, I felt more like a air-headed teenager than I did a sixteen-year-old girl, responsible for looking after two younger siblings.

"Esme," he said, warmly, distracting me from my goggling, "Would you like to tell me what happened?"

My cheeks burned with embarrassment and I replied in a rush, "Ifellouttatree."

"Pardon?" The doctor questioned, a grin spreading across his lips.

Breathing in to gain confidence and control the pain, I tried answering again. "I fell out of a tree, Doctor..."

"Oh beg my pardon, Esme. My name's, Doctor Cullen, Doctor Carlisle Cullen."

And I should've known that he would have a beautiful name. For such a beautiful creature couldn't have an ugly name.

"Carlisle," I repeated, ignoring the awkwardness my Father's presence in the room was creating, "It sounds... odd... old fashioned. But..."

"But?"

"But I like it," I finished, smiling at Carlisle.

"Thank you, Esme. I like your name too."

And I realised then how appealing his name sounded rolling off my tongue, just like mine did when he said my name. My father shuffled awkwardly from the corner of the room, clearing his throat.

"Mr. Platt, I would like it if you could leave the room for a moment?" My father stared at him, fumbling with his work hat. "It's less distressing for you if you're not prone to worry all the time.

A moment passed, but he nodded. "I'll be outside if you need me, darling, okay?"

"Yes Father."

I watched my father step out from the room, but Carlisle soon distracted me again. "I'm going to have to see this leg, okay?"

Gulping I clutched the sofa's cover beneath me, nodding nevertheless.

"Just concentrate on me, Esme, and I promise it'll be quick."

And although I had only met this man moments ago, I trusted him deeply. Not because he was a doctor, no, but because he made me feel at ease.

"Okay." My voice was hoarse, but my courage in him not waning.

I made myself stare into his eyes as he cracked my leg back into place, the pain blazing above everything I had felt before. It was just a moment in which he did it, the alien coldness of his hands soothing my leg ever so slightly. A moment though was enough to nearly cause me to black out...again.

"You're doing very well, Esme," Dr. Cullen appraised. "Now I need to set it okay?"

And through the whole experience, he kept talking to me and calming me when the pain rose unbearably higher.

"What do you want to be after school?"

"A teacher," I gasped, clutching his hand momentarily, letting him squeeze it.

"A teacher," he pondered. "Here?"

Smiling, I answered, "No, in the west."

"Ambitious indeed, Esme."

"My Father keeps telling me. But he disagrees; he says my place is as a house wife. I could be killed out west."

Laughing gently, Carlisle shook his head. "It's not that dangerous. You would be a fantastic teacher."

Watching his hands mould the _plaster_ of _Paris to my leg, I continued. "I've always loved children. Marriage doesn't seem to fit my personality, being owned by a man for as long as I live."_

The doctor sighed, wrapping the last piece around my foot. "You should do what your heart tells you to, Esme. You're young; you have everything to live for."

Carlisle patted my leg, gently, before standing up.

"You're done, already?"

Chuckling, he rolled his sleeved down again on his lab coat. "Indeed I am. See what talking can do?"

A feeling of sadness overwhelmed me for a second as I looked at the doctor who had treated me.

"What now?"

"Well I'm afraid to tell you that you won't be able to climb trees for at least six weeks." I scowled, causing his smile to broaden. "But your imagination can grow with plenty of bed rest."

"Joy," I muttered.

My father burst through the doors again, my mother bustling in after him, flustered of course.

"Six weeks, doc?"

Dr. Cullen nodded, and again I grimaced.

"And she'll be needing crutches, but I'll deliver them to you tomorrow."

My heart jumped at his words and the doctor gave me an odd look before returning his attention on my father again.

"She'll be better in no time."

Picking his coat up again, along with his medical bag, he kissed my hand like a true gentleman.

"It was nice to meet you, Esme."

I could feel my cheeks blushing an embarrassing shade of scarlet.

"You too, Doctor."

My mother thanked him at the door, Father paying him what we owed. And as he left, my heart sank just that little bit. But I knew I would get to see him again.

**A/N – This will probably be a multi-chapter prequel to **_**I Won't Lose You Again. **_

**I really hope you enjoyed this first chapter, and if you did, Please Review! **

**Thanks, Katie1995 :)**


	2. Can't I Just Fly Away?

**(A/N – I do not own the characters in or**_**Twilight**___**in any way, all rights are reserved to Stephanie Meyers.)**

**Can't I Just Fly Away?**

**Esme's P.O.V.**

"Charles Evenson's family is coming around tonight, please, Esme, try and remember your manners," my mother said as I followed her like a chick behind a mother duck into the kitchen. "It's for your own good."

I leaned against the counter opposite her, my eyes narrowing at the busy figure. "Mother, I know what you're trying to do, please, I don't want this," I tried to reason.

"Esme," my mother sighed, "we've been through this. You need to marry sometime or later, you're nearly twenty-two! You're going to become too old! And what will you do when no-one finds you eligible enough to marry?"

"I don't want to marry," I retorted, looking out the window towards the setting sun. "I want to become-

"A teacher," my father finished, purposely.

I let myself spin around to meet him stood in the doorway, his workbag slung over his body. I could see the arguments he already had made up in his eyes.

"I have the knowledge and the qualifications. You remember Miss. Annabelle?" My father nodded and so I continued. "Well, it was her who planted the idea. She told me in confidence I would be a great teacher, like she was to me."

My father walked towards me, not like he used to when I was a child, but now more demandingly. His slight limp troubled him somewhat, but did not stop the task at hand. Placing both hands firmly on my shoulders, he stared me in the eye. "Going west would be dangerous for you, Esme. You would be much safer here, at home, with a loving family and husband. Please, listen to your parents."

I could feel the steady frustration slowly dominating my body. Huffing, I walked over to the sink, baring my teeth. "But of course," I replied in a low sarcastic tone. "Why would you listen to me?" Wiping my hands on the spare tea-towel, I left the room fuming and stomping up the stairs. I have to admit, though, the stairs were a little babyish for me. Trying to keep my breathing even, I slammed the door to my bedroom, not caring how old I was.

No-one understood!

No-one, I'm sure, but Dr. Cullen.

A strange pain made my chest ache. I walked over to my single bed, curling my knees up under my chin. Closing my eyes, I allowed the last moments between me and the kind doctor flash before me. A smile curved my lips and I felt at peace until I got to the moment he said he'd see me again, which of course, he never did.

"_Ah, hello, doctor," my father greeted kindly. _

_I looked back over my shoulder hopefully, expecting Dr. Cullen. However, it wasn't him. The doctor stood awkwardly at my door was our family doctor. Disappointment flooded through me and I looked quickly away, making sure the older doctor didn't see it in my eyes. I knew, though, that he wouldn't have noticed. Because this doctor wasn't Dr. Cullen, this doctor was...normal._

"_Esme, say hello," my father chided, gently._

"_Hello, doctor." Smiling, he set his medical bag in the same place Dr. Cullen did the day before._

_Taking my leg in his warm hands, I winced. He wasn't as gentle as Dr. Cullen was yesterday._

_I breathed in, calculating my levels of courage, before blurting the question out. "Do you know where Dr. Cullen is? I thought he was going to treat me today."_

_My father shot me a disapproving look, but said nothing. I pursed my lips in frustration and slight pain as the doctor answered. "I'm sorry, Miss, I thought you already knew. Dr. Cullen had to leave yesterday night due to a family emergency."_

"_Oh," I breathed, my fingers curling on the arm rest as he continued to move me around._

I heard my bedroom door creak open lightly from the side of me. Not bothering to look, I knew who it was by the uneven footsteps.

"Father, please. No more."

I felt pressure by my leg as my mattress dipped deeply with my father's weight. He placed a hand on top if my own laying limply on the mattress. Sighing, I listened to what he had to say.

"Esme, my darling daughter, how unfortunate you inherited my strong headed temper. I understand what you're going through. Believe me; I only want the best for you."

I screwed my eyes tighter together because I didn't want to feel the guilt he weighed upon my shoulders. Gripping his hand in mine, I felt his other hand stroking and playing with my messy curls. It was a comforting notion, something he did when I was a child that rarely happened any more. I wasn't ready to tie myself eternally to someone I had no feelings for. I was still a child at heart, with huge ambitions and dreams. But no-one supported me, and so now, what was the point?

"When is he getting here?" I asked, albeit muffled because of the cushions.

My father, I knew, would be smiling now. "Around seven-thirty, Esme."

Pushing myself up, I examined my Father's lined face. Laughter lines crinkled around his eyes as he smiled softly at me. "And I can't be dismissed?"

"No, Esme, and you know that."

I nodded, standing, before walking towards my wardrobe and pulling two coloured dresses out.

"You'd better help me decide then," I laughed, holding a dark green dress to my body before switching it and holding the blue dress to me.

Fake frowning like I was faking happiness, my father rubbed his chin. "Decisions, decisions."I scowled at him and he smiled again, his chest shaking slightly. "The green one, it brings out your eyes."

Touched, I felt my throat constrict at my father's words.

"You are far too kind."

I felt his hands on my shoulders as he spun me around by surprise. Taking my face in his hands, he kissed my head gently. "I'm not kind, Esme. I'm telling the truth."

I shook my head at his antics, pushing him from the room hurriedly. "You can see me when I'm finished!" I called to him as he limped down the stairs.

Closing the door more gently this time, I had a genuine smile curve my lips. I knew they were doing this in their best interests, I just didn't know if it would truly ever help me.

**~XOX~**

Securing my second earring, I made sure I looked presentable. My hair was half up and half down, wispy curls here and there.

"Come on Esme," I reprimanded, curtly, "don't doubt yourself now."

The clock on my vanity hit exactly seven-thirty, and as if responding to my own thoughts, a sharp knock resounded throughout our outer Columbus home. My reflection grimaced as I heard the front door creak open and my Mother greet the Evensons in a happy, cheerful voice she kept for occasions like these.

"Just grin and bear it," I reminded in distaste.

Sneaking one last look at my appearance, I placed my silver pendant necklace around my neck and left my room, which was scattered with various items of clothing. I could hear them all talking in hushed, soft tones as I descended the stairs. I tried to be as quiet as I could, biding the time my family and the Evensons would realise I'd made an appearance. However, as the thought occurred, my foot seemed to deliberately place itself on the creakiest stair in the most awkward place. I mentally cursed as the hushed whispers diminished into silence.

_Here we go, _I thought.

Trying to find confidence, I walked as slowly as I could – without looking as stupid as possible – to the living room that held both mine and Charles' family. I walked across the thresh hold, and there he was; Charles Evenson. His dark brown-black hair was neatly brushed back into a quickly becoming popular style. His grey dark, black eyes reflected the living room light that hung above us, and finally, his teeth glowed white with the light as well.

However, his crystal clean appearance didn't seem to show the real him. Just by looking at him, I could read between the lines. The way he stared at me, like I was horse rather than a person, made me feel anxious, rather embarrassed. Who did he think he was?

"Esme, there you are!" Mother half joked – half seethed as Charles got up and pulled a chair out from under the table, granted I took the seat and thanked his gestures.

"Sorry Mother, Charles."

Still smiling, albeit creepily, he replied, "I'm guessing it takes a woman as beautiful as yourself, as long time to prep."

I could feel my cheeks blushing a horrible shade of red as I allowed this man to flatter me.

"Hear, hear," my father laughed, clinking his glassed with Mr. And Mrs. Evenson.

I could feel I was on the edge, my nerves purposely shining through and making me nervous. My Mother quickly placed the first course on our table. It was fish, followed closely by a main meal – a Roast. Throughout the meal, Charles made various conversation, asking me what I thought of certain things – frowning when I may have told him the strong views I have on women in society. Of course, from then on, I was wary of him.

Towards the pudding, I was growing tired of his ramblings about stock markets and banks. I had no interest in his world and by the looks of things he had none in mine. I knew my concentration was wavering and my imagination slowly took hold.

Instead of Charles sat beside me, it was Carlisle. I realise it's completely absurd, but when you miss someone, it shows through potently. I nodded and murmured in agreement robotically, programmed automatically to do it now. I knew when I should say "yes," and when I should say "no," so my boredom did not catch Charles' attention.

After what seemed like forever, my father took Mr. Evenson into the drawing room for a glass of whisky and a cigar. My Mother and Mrs. Evenson stayed at the table where the quietly spoke to one another. Taken away by the design of Mrs. Evenson's dress, I traced the patterns with me eyes, stopping suddenly when I came across a dark bluish purple inlaid in her skin. I diverted my attention to my hands as I tried to forget what I saw.

She couldn't have just fallen or done anything to get that bruise, it was shaped, disgustingly, into what I could see as the shape of fingers. I gulped, trying to displace my distress.

"Miss. Platt, are you okay?"

Charles placed a hand on top of mine as I snapped back into reality. "Oh I'm fine," I lied, "Just a little hot. Would you like to take a walk with me?"

A smile softened his face and I linked my fingers with his, helping – but really pulling him up. The balcony outside the spare room was a welcome sight for me. The air was warm, but not too humid, allowing us a peaceful evening.

"I hear you want to be a teacher out west," he commented suddenly, catching me off guard.

"Yes," I spluttered, looking at my feet before back at him and continuing. "Well," I sighed, "that was until now, it's too dangerous."

Charles nodded in agreement, which I was slightly perplexed about. I thought his interest was encouraging; obviously I was, again, wrong.

Sitting down, we let silence ensue, only breaking when he had to leave, which understandably was a relief.

I did not like him whatsoever, so much, in fact, that I could never tell my parents. This would be one long painful thing I would have to battle against.

**A/N – Sorry I've been lacking on the Twilight things lately. Exams have taken up my spare time, so again, I'm really sorry! Anyways, here you go!**

**Please Review if you enjoyed this chapter, feedback is greatly appreciated! Thanks, Katie1995. :)**


	3. Mrs Evenson

**A/N – (I don't own **_**The Twilight Saga **_**or the characters in any way; all rights are reserved to **_**Stephanie Meyer.**_**)**

**Mrs. Evenson**

**(Esme's P.O.V.)**

I looked in the mirror and the imperfections stood out obviously. My nose looked rather big, my chest was too flat and my hair fell lamely around my face. With a night gown just to cover me, I did my best to smooth it down before walking into the unfamiliar bedroom where the floorboards creaked unpleasantly with every step I took.

I was scared. There was no other way to look at it. The man whom had asked for my hand in marriage had received his wish, and now I officially belonged to him. I had lost my rights as soon as I said 'I do,' and now I had to live the rest of my life as a house wife, tied to a man I hardly knew or loved and it scared me. My husband was a stranger to me; I really never intended to marry him, but my mother and father refused for me to become a teacher. Charles Evenson was the only way out they could see, and so I was forced to marry him.

_But surely, it couldn't be that bad, _a voice gently comforted me. _Look at everything you have: a house of your own, a husband, stability. That's more than what your parents had together._

And it was true, because my parents had struggled with money for years. I was just a farm girl on the outskirts of Columbus, Ohio before I married Charles today. Now, I am Mrs. Evenson with a business man as a husband a have a comfortable life.

But I couldn't value the life I had when I couldn't love the man who had given me this life. He was a stranger – only three times had he taken me out previous to my engagement, and then, after he proposed, I barely saw him in the months that led to the wedding day, and then, just to be placed in front of a man I barely knew and given to him forever... I knew I probably wouldn't ever accept what had happened to me.

And now, as I stood looking at my reflection, I couldn't really come to terms about what I had to go through tonight. I could imagine it, his hands touching my body in all the places he could reach, his rough kisses being planted across my tender skin and him... becoming a part of me. It sent shivers down my spine, but I knew there was no way to stop this.

Be a good wife, accept your husband's actions and do your best to make him happy.

But could I do that? Could someone like me really do that?

"Esme." I was shocked back into reality by my husband's voice. It was gentle, but I could hear the gruffness that surrounded his words.

I locked my eyes with his in the mirror as I watched him walk around me in a semi circle so he finished on the other side of me. I felt ridiculed, as if he were observing a horse rather than his wife which made my eyes flicker over my body again to spot any problems that he could see.

I gave him a forced smile and met his gaze again. "I've been waiting for you," I said, cautiously, the embarrassment threatening to spread to my cheeks. However, it seemed worth it as a smile broke out across his lips and I saw my reflection relax slightly.

I walked towards him, over thinking the steps I was taking and nearly tripping, but finally, I got to his side and placed a soft kiss on his bristly cheek where he had obviously shaved this morning. I felt his arm wrap across my waist and lift me off my feet. A shocked gasp left my mouth, and I hoped it sounded like a delighted chirp rather than the petrified squeak I knew it was.

"You don't know how long I've waited for this," he whispered, his voice low as hooked his other arms underneath my legs and carried me bridal style to the bed. Placing me down gently, he bent forwards and placed a soft kiss on my forehead before he walked into the bathroom right of the bedroom. I was beginning to shake and I knew that if I made myself look a coward now, just what he would think of me.

Instead, I closed my eyes and turned to lie on my side. It wasn't until the mattress on my other side dipped with my husband's weight, did I roll back onto my back. I let my eyes wander over his figure, although his back was to me; he had broad shoulders and his arms were toned as well so he was muscular, but not over obvious about it. You could see a faint trace of his spine beneath his skin as he curved forwards to reach for something, which also caused his shoulder blades to make a prominent appearance.

"Charles," I whispered, my voice higher than normal. The man I hardly knew turned around at the sound of my voice and gave me a smile, however, it didn't reach his eyes.

"Relax," he replied. Charles' torso twisted so he could face me before climbing onto the bed and wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close so I melted back into the mattress and pillows below me. My breathing became somewhat disordered and so I ended up silently gasping.

Closing my eyes briefly, I was met with the hot breath of Charles upon my face. I guess it was my opportunity and so mustering all the courage I could, I opened my eyes again and kissed him.

It was slow at first, but as I became more confident with him, the kiss deepened and gradually became more urgent. I could feel Charles' hands raking up and down across my back as I clutched onto his shoulders. As his hands slowly became more adventurous, his fingers began wandering up my thighs.

I tensed and pulled back suddenly, my heart beating ferociously in my chest.

"Don't be scared," He mumbled into my skin as he placed kisses along my right shoulder and up my neck.

But I was, and there was no way I could deny it.

**~ XOX ~**

I woke up the morning after in discomfort. The night itself hadn't been terrible, but I had continuously felt as if it wasn't right, like I had been with the wrong person the whole time. But I had to get up and so as quietly as I could, I made my way to the bathroom where I filled the basin with water. Washing quickly, I towel dried myself and dressed in a plain but pretty purple dress where the sleeves dropped off at the elbows and the neck line was lower than normal. It was very flattering on my figure.

Sweeping past Charles who was still sleeping, I made myself comfortable downstairs. Yesterday was a whirlwind of colours and so I never quite got to orientate myself.

But I soon felt at home as I began making the breakfast. I knew it was my place to be here. There was no reason for me to get a job – I had a husband who was a lawyer and so my place was at home to look after the house. I couldn't argue anymore – since yesterday, my life had changed, and I couldn't decide if it was for the better or for the worse. Because as I remembered the wedding service, I remembered that glimpse of greed I saw in my Husband's eyes, and it concerned me, because I'd never seen it before yesterday.

But last night, I saw it again, and the feeling of fear seeped through me again. I was just being stupid; I knew he wouldn't do anything. Like my parents had said, Charles Evenson was a good man with huge prosperities. I couldn't get in his way – if I did, I wouldn't be the perfect wife I knew I was meant to be.

"Good morning, darling," Charles greeted as he walked past me and to the dining table.

"Charles!" I exclaimed. I wasn't expecting him to come down so soon. "I wasn't expecting you to –

"Work won't do itself," he joked.

I smiled back as the eggs cooked, my eyes flickering between the clock, my Husband's form and the frying pan on the stove. As soon as I thought they were cooked perfectly, I dished the his breakfast along with the bacon that had been frying in another pan.

"Here you go, sweetheart." I placed the plate down in front of him and a flicker of concern passed my features as he frowned slightly.

"Esme, I don't like my eggs fried," he mumbled in distaste using his fork to poke one of the egg yolks. "I like them scrambled," he continued.

I went to take the plate but he stopped me. "It's okay for now," he sighed in exasperation and I took a step back, surprised that he had behaved like he did.

"I'm sorry, Charles," I replied as I poured him a cup of tea. "It won't happen again."

I placed the tea by his plate and took my seat opposite him. "I hope not," he said in a tone that signalled finality to the conversation.

I leaned back into the back rest of the chair, absent minded, as I watched him eat his fill and drink his tea. His moods had kept me on my feet this morning; one time he would be happy, the other time something would set him off.

"You're going to work," I stated as he unfolded the news paper placed on the table opposite me. "What time will you be home?"

Charles gave me an expression I couldn't quite place. "I should be home around five," he murmured as he changed his eye line from me to the front page of the news paper. "But Michael and Edward have invited me out for a drink – business really," he added as he flicked the page over.

I bit my cheek, but for whatever reason, I do not know. It was the way he was making me feeling; as if I were just a distraction by being there. "Well, I guess I'll see you when you get home, dear," I said as I rose off my chair and placed a kiss on his cheek.

"Where are you going?" he asked, although it was more of an accusation with the tone he spoke in.

I turned back on my heel to face him. "I have to go shopping," I explained, "The groceries won't do themselves, and nor will the cooking." My husband gave what sounded like a satisfied sigh.

"Well, I guess I have to go to." His arm came up so he could read his watch. "Do you want a lift into the city centre?"

I smiled as I grabbed my coat next to the fire. "That would be lovely." Taking his brief case in hand, he too came away from the table. "I'll have to do the washing up when I get back," I mumbled to myself.

I followed Charles out the door and placed the key in a matching purple clutch bag. We had yet to be seen in public together since the wedding yesterday, and because of Charles' position in society, nearly everyone knew about our marriage.

But I as we made our way more into the centre of town, my worries from this morning started to dissolve.

"How will you get home?" Charles questioned as he pulled the car up onto the side of the road to let me out.

"I'll walk," I replied, "It's good for me after all."

"Are you sure?" I smiled at his concern.

"I used to live on a farm, Charles," I joked. "I'll be fine."

He leaned over the passenger seat and I leaned down to give him one final kiss goodbye. And then he pulled away again and that was the late I saw of him until the evening that followed.

**A/N – I've been so busy with school work these past few months that trying to write multiple chapter stories is becoming too much – so far, I've only had time for small one-shots, but when I get the time, I'll try and continue my multi-chapter stories. So I'm sorry in advance for my stories being slowly updated.**

**Anyways, if you enjoyed this chapter, Please Review! **

**Thanks, Katie1995. :)**


	4. The Truth

**A/N – I do not own **_**The Twilight Saga **_**or the characters**__**in any way; all rights are reserved to Stephanie Meyer)**

**The Truth**

**(Esme's P.O.V.)**

I wasn't prepared for it; how could anyone be prepared for something like that? My tongue was still pooling from the blood coming from the inside of my left cheek. The impact of Charles' hand on my cheek was so powerful he knocked me to the floor and the dinner plates, still full with food, followed harshly and quickly after, smashing against the wall extremely too close for comfort. He lunged towards me and I drew back, folding my knees to my chest.

"I'm sorry, Charles!" My voice came flustered and panicked and as he raised his fist again, I covered my face with my arms, waiting for the unstoppable punch, but nothing came, instead I opened my eyes just in time to see him punch the air.

"Out of all the people I'm landed with, it's _you_!" His voice was full of malice and I couldn't look at him. "You worthless little bitch. I pay for the bills, for the mortgage and you repay me by being incapable of even the simplest of tasks."

I could see the unreasonable rage in his eyes and it angered me. I didn't care anymore. I didn't deserve his harsh, unfeeling words and so unlike most women, I bit back. "It was only slightly burnt, Charles. Maybe if you came back earlier than you did your dinner would have been perfectly fine!"

I pushed myself up off the floor, and began to walk away, but his hand found my shoulder and he clutched it painfully tightly, whipping me back around to face him. His face was in mine and I whimpered, luckily it was too weak for Charles to hear. "What did you say?" he demanded, his eyes now blazing with a fire so fine it unnerved me more than I wished to let on.

"You heard perfectly well," I retorted.

But it was the wrong thing to say, because as the words left my mouth, his fist came down hard across my face again. I cried out and the words he was shouting became lost in a blur of strung, incoherent sentences. I tried to fight against him, but the more I fought the harder he hit, in the end I decided it was best to give up, my knees, after all, had already given up on me. I landed on the floor in a pile of limbs and pain, just wanting to take back my words that I found I couldn't control through a heated anger that I had always been infamously known for as a child.

"If you _ever _step one foot out of line again, Esme, I will make sure you don't see the light of day again. You will not embarrass or disobey me. I am your husband and I expect your upmost respect from me, always." His words were the last thing I heard before his footsteps echoed off the wooden paned floor and his study door slammed shut so that I was left draped in the darkness of the houses shadows.

I was never scared of the shadows or the dark when I was a child, but when I was a child, the darkness meant nothing to me. It didn't scare me, it didn't symbolise anything because I knew soon enough the darkness would be won over by the light of a new day.

It was now, with Charles by my side, did I now see no way out from the darkness. Charles was the shadow who would now consistently linger over me, and there was no light to save me from his dark clutches. My light had left me years before and with it, taken every hope I clutched to with him.

"Mrs. Evenson, Mrs. Evenson?" I didn't respond for a long time, but as footsteps grew louder towards my crumpled frame, I called out in response.

"It's fine, Maggie, really," I lied, surprised with how easily it came to me.

As her crinkled face came into view through the darkness, as disapproving frown rested upon her aged face. "What ever happened?"

I forced a smile and fought hard to keep my voice steady. "Oh it's nothing, Maggie, really. I fell down the stairs, tripped over some loose carpet. I'm clumsy like that," I finished, calmly.

Maggie in return offered me a tight smile, but I knew she could see right through me. However, my house keeper – or shall I say Charles' house keeper – didn't breach the subject further and so I accepted her offer of help as she picked me off the floor. I found it hurt to move, especially with the soreness around my rib cage. I caught my breath in an effort not to cry out from the sudden movement. Leaning against the wall, I regained my composure as Maggie looked on, her face solemn.

She didn't truly see what had happened which made me relax slightly, but I knew she was far more perceptive than what she made out to be and it concerned me that at the moment I seemed so weak.

"You look tired, ma'am," she whispered, as if to relent from letting Charles hear what she was saying.

I smiled through the aches and pain and replied smoothly, "I'm alright, but now you mention it I guess I should be off to bed." I paused, looking at the smashed china and mess of food around my feet. "But I should really tidy this mess up first."

I went to lean down, but Maggie stopped me, her hand resting on my shoulder. "It's okay ma'am," she said, her smile gentle now. "I'll do it for you."

I breathed out and continued my facade. "Really, Maggie, it's fine, I'll do it."

"No," she replied more curtly. "Please, Mrs. Evenson, let me."

I sighed in defeat and shuffled around her to let her down. Maggie was far older than me and yet I was the old woman today. Every hope I had when I married Charles has disappeared before really even given a chance to form properly. It had taken only two months for me to finally realise the truth I guess I knew before tonight even happened.

I should have known how nasty he really was – the morning after our wedding had shown me just a glimpse of the 'real' Charles, but I had to refuse that spurt of doubt and look for the kindness in him, didn't I? Now I've realised there really is nothing kind inside of him, it's just an act and there's nothing I can do to save me from him.

"Mrs. Evenson, are you sure you're alright?" I locked my eyes with the grey eyes of Maggie and just stared, nodding finally in response, realising that I had begun crying pointless tears.

"I'm just a bit sore, nothing to worry about."

Maggie nodded, giving what looked like an understanding smile before walking away. I turned my head towards the light seeping out from the gap beneath Charles' study door. I doubted he would want his fill tonight and so slowly, ever so slowly, I ascended the stairs, catching my breath every now and then through certain discomfort.

It was a long time before I reached my room, but I did it; making it to my bedroom and sitting down on the edge of the bed, my breathing troubled, I tried to organise myself once more.

_You're stronger than this, Esme, _I thought, quickly. _Don't let someone as vile as him hurt you like he has, be better, be stronger, be the fighter you know you are._

Sighing, I let myself wander over the bathroom, retrieving my nightgown in the process. As I peeled the layers of clothes away from my body, I could see the vicious, angry bruising littering my torso. My eyes kept to the floor until I had put my nightgown on and began walking to mine and Charles' room again. However, as I passed the sink, I caught my reflection in the mirror above the basin. I looked up, startled at the woman who looked back at me.

This woman wasn't Esme Platt; instead she was the defeated woman, Esme Evenson. It made the hairs on the back of my neck rise up and a chill to pass down my spine. I was disgusted to see how much one person had changed me in little over three weeks, but it had happened. The dark purples already beginning to show wouldn't be able to be hidden by how ever many layers of make-up I applied. I figured the more pressure to the bruising would also make the pain worse and so I discarded the idea. The bruising on my wrists, arms, legs, torso and neck, however, were easily concealable by wearing long sleeved dresses and high necked collars; easy.

Hating my reflection, I walked away towards the bed, pealing the corner of the duvet away. I had just slipped in when Charles' footsteps began their journey towards the staircase down stairs. My body tensed considerably and I held my breath, knowing that however much I tried to silence and hide myself from him, he would still be able to find me, still be able to _use _me!

I prayed to God, silently hoping he would prevent Charles from getting to me, but as the door swung open on its hinges and a shadowed figure stood with a glint in its eyes, I knew I was going to get no rest tonight.

"Esme," Charles said, his voice unloving, uncaring – menacing. "I see you're all ready for me." He walked towards my covered figure, throwing the duvet off of me to reveal my assaulted body. I wasn't prepared for the night ahead. "There's just one problem," he continued, his voice low with desire. "You're too overly dressed, my love." His words made me feel sick and as his hand came down to begin removing my nightgown, I squirmed.

"Charles, please, not tonight," I whispered, my voice hoarse in desperation.

Charles' mouth twisted into a vicious smile and I turned my cheek, expecting the slap, but instead he took my face between his thumb and fingers, forcing me to look at him. "Now Esme, I thought I'd told you not to step out of line again," he growled, taking the material of my nightgown in his fists and pulling me starkly upright, finally managing to rip it down the sides. I get up, now naked, and despite the discomfort, I stand opposite him, the bed between us. He's poised and ready to attack as he tracks my movements carefully.

"I like to see you feisty once in a while, Esme," he exclaims, a grin painted on his lips.

I step to my left, but he mirrors me and I stop abruptly, my eyes taking quick glimpses at the door left slightly ajar. Keeping my focus solely on Charles' debating form, I continue to my left so I'm now stood at the foot of the bed. Charles, thinking he has won over me, pulls me roughly into him, his hands wandering down the sides of my body, between my legs and towards my breasts. Taking the only chance I have, I turn in his arms, joining my lips with his until the opportunity arises and I kicked him as hard as I possibly could in the shin.

He let me go immediately, cursing out loud as he limped lightly. I took flight, running towards the door and slamming it behind me. I could hear his mad footfalls behind me, heavy but gaining. Turning the corner, I ran for the nearest spare room, closing the door madly behind me as my foot crossed the thresh hold. There was a lock on the door that the previous house owners hadn't chosen to remove which offered me some safety.

Turning my back against the door, I felt Charles' boot as he kicked the door in frustration and utter fury. I closed my eyes, my whole body trembling like a leaf in the wind. His words were foul and disgusting, but as time wore on and he realised he had no power to get to me, he stormed off, his shoes clicking against the floorboards until the slamming of our bedroom door was heard, finally allowing me the safety I had yearned for all night.

I slid down against the door, sitting on the dusty, cold floors with my knees pulled up against my chest. The tears had come on steadily, but the realisation that he was prepared to and could rape me at anytime allowed the steady flow to become thicker and faster, allowing the pain and unjustness of my life out with them. I cried for a lost childhood, for the man who showed me compassion that I would never know again, cried for the dismal future I faced for Charles, and cried for the lonely angel man who was Carlisle, hoping that through my unlucky circumstances, he has found his happy ending with the woman who loves him with his whole heart.

**A/N – Slowly updating all my Twilight fanfics! After the Fifteenth of June I will be back and updating far more frequently!**

**Anyways, if you enjoyed this, and it's a bonus if you're still reading this, Please Review! **

**Thanks, Katie1995. :)**


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